


Wildest Dreams

by writerseventeen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Leo/Cris, Leo and Cris are still footballers, M/M, kindof, neymar is not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerseventeen/pseuds/writerseventeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo is Lionel Messi, Cris is Cristiano Ronaldo, and Neymar never left Brazil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so NEW project. I've wanted to write this for a long time and the idea struck me when i heard Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams come on the radio. Honestly, i'm not that into Taylor Swift but the lyrics of the song really prompted this idea of an impossible romance between two unlikely people from two completely different worlds. I recommend listening to the song if you haven't heard it yet to get an idea of what i mean. Enjoy!!!

It’s the off season and Lionel Messi is frighteningly relieved. Taking time off or “escaping” as Dani likes to call it, is exactly what Leo needs. It’s not like he enjoys not playing football but certain situations, which recently arose, pushed the immediacy of the situation.

“And you’re sure it’s okay with you?” asked Leo, biting his nails. It was a bad habit and if Cris was here he would be telling him that. ‘ _No Leo we’re not thinking about him right now.’_

“Yes, Leo I’m positive,” reassured Alves for the sixth time this phone call.

“And where is it again?”

“Rio de Janiero. Don’t worry about people crowding us. My place is on a small inlet that extends away from the city. It’s private, small and along a quiet beach. Don’t worry about it okay?”

“I’m just worried that I’ll be a burden.”

“Leo, for the three hundredth time you’re not going to be a burden. Honestly, this is no problem to me at all. The house is too big for one person and I’m happy to share it with you during the off season.”

“You’re a real friend Dani, thank you,” replied Leo, genuinely grateful for his teammate’s hospitality. And if Dani’s tone sounded more cordial than it should have between two friends of seven years, Leo didn’t dwell on it. Sometimes Leo needed to be told straight and that’s why Dani was such a reliable person, he spoke no bullshit unlike so many others.

“You do have to admit it sometime,” spoke Dani suddenly.

“Admit what?”

“That you’re running.”

“Oh my god, Dani I’m not running.”

“Really? Then what do you call escaping to another country for months just to avoid seeing your boyfriend?”  asked Leo’s teammate, unconvinced.

“It’s called um,” stuttered the Argentine, glancing around his room anxiously, hoping for convincing words to find their way into his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s called running away Leo and I would hope that you would’ve realized that by now.”

“Dani please I really don’t want to think let alone talk about that right now,” replied Leo, sighing and rubbing a hand against his temple. A headache had suddenly overtaking him.

“It was three weeks ago,” reminded Dani.

“Exactly, only three weeks ago! That’s not enough time to deal with it!” protested Leo meekly.

“Leo, you’re going to have to talk to him about it sometime. I’d suggest you do it before you leave, clear the air.”

“Dani, I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t know what to say or how to act. I’d just do all the wrong things and make this worse than it already is.”

“You know you should really take into account how he’s feeling. I mean I know you’re freaking out but just imagine how he’s taking it, poor guy.”

“Okay Dani, guilt tripping me right now is really not appreciated.”

“Alright, sorry I just- you should really- really talk to him about it.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.”

“Yeah I won’t.”

* * *

 

Cris had proposed to him three weeks ago. Taken him to a fancy restaurant, knelt down on one knee, popped open the velvet ring casing, and spoke those four horrifying words- “Will you marry me?”- The whole shebang. The worst part about it is that it shouldn’t have been scary. Leo had probably seen this coming for at least a year and a half and both of them had talked about it a couple of times, about belonging to one another completely and eternally. Of course it was always Cris asking him about it prompting the subject first. Leo had never really felt comfortable with talking about it because holy shit _marriage_. Not many things scared Leo, but marriage fucking did. And it wasn’t even because he was afraid of commitment, no he loved Cris, it was the idea that someone was capable of loving him for forever. That wasn’t possible, and that’s why Leo had choked. Marriage was scary because there was no way in hell that Cris would be able to marry him without getting bored, annoyed, or fed up with him within a couple of years. To Leo, marriage meant the beginning of the end for them and not the beginning of a long, happy life together. Of course this was a very one sided, very wrong opinion from the mind of an insecure Leo Messi.

To Cris, marriage was the next perfectly logical step in their relationship. They had been together for five years and although it had been a journey of ups and downs, they’d been able to overcome everything the world threw at them, together. He loved Leo with all his being, he had already given himself completely to the younger man and Leo knew that. They were basically already a family. Cristiano Jr. had begun calling Leo his ‘second’ daddy on the day of their six month anniversary and that had been such a long time ago. Whenever they had free time, Leo and Cris would fly to one another, no matter what. One time, Leo decided to surprise Cris at his home in Real Madrid, but when he got there all that greeted him was an empty house and Cris’ happy maid, Lorena. As it turned out, Cris had done the same thing and was aimlessly wandering around Leo’s empty house in Barcelona, suitcase clutched in hand and very confused.

He loved everything about Leo, from his messy hair to his kind smile and oversized ears and questionable taste in designer suits. He wanted Leo to belong to him wholly and completely for years but he knew the younger man never felt ready. Leo had always been insecure about serious relationship conversations and marriage was something his boyfriend actively avoided. But Cris was in his thirties and his age frightened him. He knew that thirty wasn’t even close to being considered ‘old’ but still it was concerning. He wanted to be married by his thirties with a loving family and comfortable home. The universe was kind enough that he already had a loving family and comfortable home but alas no marriage.

Basically, Cris thought Leo was on the same page as him when it came to marriage, as they had been together for so damn long. They were practically already married so an official validation of belonging would only strengthen their relationship. Cris had spent day picking out the engagement ring, no store obviously could provide what he deemed special enough for Leo, so he had it custom made of course. It was a simple band made of pure gold and had their names delicately engraved along the top. Cris decided to also include their jersey numbers on the inner lining. Yes it was cheesy but football really was their lives, it was how they met, connected, and fell in love; so it only makes sense to have something football related on the ring. When it had finally arrived in the mail, Cris’ hands immediately started sweating and they hadn’t stopped sweating until the proposal, but Cris did feel like he was going to faint before the whole thing happened.

He had asked Leo out to dinner at their favorite restaurant of course. It was small but nice and had the best bruschetta in all of Spain. Cris felt his heart pounding against his chest with each passing moment. Every breathe he took felt strained, like he had the wind knocked out of him, and he was constantly pulling at his collar, attempting to relieve some of the ridiculous heat radiating from his ridiculous body. The pressure of the ring against his thigh kept getting heavier and heavier and Cris had considered backing out all together as time went on. His nerves wouldn’t relent whatsoever.

Leo, the most oblivious person in the world, didn’t seem to notice anything different. He was calm and quiet for most of the dinner, occasionally mentioning something funny about his teammates. Cris would laugh, abruptly and loudly, startling himself alongside the other guests dining. His odd behavior only earned him an amused glance from his boyfriend before returning to his menu.

A flood of emotions was drowning Cris as the dinner progressed. They went from calm and confident to ‘holy fuck what are you doing’ to ‘I’m madly in love with you Lionel Messi and I couldn’t be more sure of anything else in my entire life.’ -which is subsequently what he ended up saying as he got down on one knee and proposed.

Leo had looked absolutely stunned as soon as he saw Cris get down on one knee. His eyes widened substantially and his mouth hung open in a small ‘O.’ Cris had ignored the Argentine’s surprise and continued with his proposal, which flowed surprisingly easy after he started speaking. When he finished his sincere comments he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the dark velvet ring casing.

“Will you, Lionel Messi, the one and only love of my life, marry me?” asked Cris, popping open the case, revealing the golden shimmering ring.  

Cris looked at the younger man with nothing but pure love and adoration. He looked soft and vulnerable, waiting silently for Leo’s answer.

The Argentine was sitting frighteningly still in his chair, hands locked together over his mouth. His eyes were glistening with tears and he was blinking rapidly to keep them from falling. He was looking at Cris, almost hesitantly, biting his lip. He was speechless.

Never in a million years would he have expected this night to be the night Cris proposed. Leo never expected Cris to propose in general actually. He never thought he would be ready for marriage and as it turned out, as he stared down at Cristiano, whom he loved with all his heart, kneeling down on one knee with a gorgeous ring on display, he still wasn’t. That’s what made the tears begin welling up in his eyes. When Leo realized this was actually happening, that Cris _actually_ wanted to marry him, he began crying because he loved Cris so fucking much but he just _couldn’t, he couldn’t._

As time went on, and the silence became overwhelming, Cris’ face began to fall.

“Leo? Your answer?” asked Cris gently, placing a warm hand on the younger man’s thigh.

Leo felt his throat close and chest constrict. This was going to be the end of their relationship and it was all Leo’s fault. It was all because of his inability to get over himself and his insecurities.

“Cris, I-,” began Leo, “I love you so much and I can’t even begin to describe how much this means to me- how happy this makes me…I love you so much and I always will. I never want you to doubt that… but… I just don’t think I-,”

Leo was cut off by the shaky exhale of the older man. He felt the warm of Cris’ hand being removed to wipe at his eyes, which began to fill with tears as soon as Leo started speaking because Cris knew where this was heading and that was towards a _no._ Leo still wasn’t ready and at it may have been the overwhelming emotions influencing his mind but in the moment Cris thought, ‘At this point, if he’s not ready he’ll never be.’

“Leo, you don’t need to explain yourself. I know you’re trying to say no.”

Leo began sniffling, rubbing softly at his nose to keep anything from falling. He needed to explain himself to Cris but he felt his throat closing with each passing second. He needed to get a fucking grip but it infuriated him that his body was betraying him.

The older man stuffed the ring back into his pocket and stood up slowly. He looked heartbroken and crestfallen Leo had never felt guiltier in his entire life. He reached out weakly for Cris, grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket, attempting to pull him back down.

“Cris please wait. Don’t go please please-,” urged Leo, tears falling down his cheeks.

The taller man smiled brokenly down at Leo, and leaned down to press a long kiss to the top of his head. Leo held onto him tighter, fists clenching in his jacket.

“Don’t go Cris, please I can explain, let me explain,”

“Shh, baby it is okay,” mumbled Cris into Leo’s hair, rubbing a soothing hand against Leo’s back. And fuck Leo really didn’t deserve that. “I understand. I sprung this up on you from out of nowhere and I should’ve known that you weren’t ready. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“No no Cris you didn’t do anything wrong it’s me, I’m the one-,”

“Leo,” interrupted Cris, sounding tired, “it’s really okay, I’m okay.”

“No it’s not. I’ve ruined everything haven’t I?”

“No not at all Leo, everything’s fine okay?”

“It’s not, It’s not,” reassured Cris grabbing onto Leo’s wrists gently. “Let’s go home okay? It’s going to be okay we don’t have to talk about this anytime soon if you don’t want to. I understand.”

And that had been that. They had driven home in relative silence. Leo would try smiling lightly at Cris every once in awhile but his efforts felt useless. The older man was inconsolable. Leo’s refusal had made Cris question the very nature of their relationship. The future didn’t seem as bright all of a sudden. He was forced to suffer in silence while the Argentine sat in the seat next to him. The younger man was a constant reminder of the uncertainty of their relationship and Cris felt overwhelmed. He told a crestfallen looking Leo that he would be sleeping on the couch tonight. Leo had looked like he was going to protest before nodding his head once, staring at the ground.

Leo came to realize that Cristiano’s bed was unnervingly cold without him and he fell asleep with tears drying on his cheeks.


	2. Heaven Can't Help You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo arrives in Rio de Janeiro and meets lots of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god this is a monster chapter. Enjoy!!!

“Just call me when you land okay? I’ll have a car waiting for you.”

“Thanks Dani I will,”

“Oh wait, did you end up calling Cris?”

Silence.

“Um, yeah he was okay with it,”

“You’re lying,” states Dani plainly.

“Yep,” Leo hangs up and turns off his phone.

The Argentine sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. First class is relatively empty today, only a few business men on board. He’s relieved because he really wants to pass out for this entire flight. Last time when he decided to sleep during flight, first class was packed and someone had decided to snap pictures of him while he slept. Those pictures ended up online and all over social media and apparently he’s not a very pretty sleeper.

Three and a half weeks had gone by since Cris’ proposal and Leo still hadn’t managed to deal with it at all. Cris unlike Leo didn’t give himself the luxury of time off. During the summer, the Real Madrid forward was bombarded with photoshoots, interviews, advertisements, and business transactions that he never had time to do during the actual season.

Leo had the occasional photoshoot call but he straight up refused to involve himself in anything extraneous, representing Adidas was enough. Also, Cris liked to stay busy; whenever Leo suggested they go away for a while something always had to come up in the older man’s schedule. After two years of trying, Leo had long given up. Staying busy was just part of Cris’ character and there was no changing that.

For Leo, if he didn’t have time to live his life outside of football he would be mad by now. Yes, he loves his fans and feels humble by the pedestal on which the world puts him, but he’s only human. He treasures his privacy and the simple things in life but he also loves to occasionally indulge in the fun aspects of living.

He hadn’t told Cristiano about his spontaneous trip to Brazil. The Argentine knew that withholding that information could potentially be very problematic. It was only a matter of time before Cris called him and asked to talk it out, which Leo would be very hesitant to do because he detests talking about serious, relationship things and then Cris would tell him to come over and then Leo would have to tell him he’s in Brazil with Dani Alves and then Cris would become livid.

But Spain was drowning him. The only places he had been to in the past eight months were football fields, his house, Cristiano’s house and that’s it. He needed to get away, desperately and maybe Leo knew he was running away from his problems but sometimes that’s all one can do. Obviously there would be nowhere in the world where Leo could escape his celebrity status, but he could escape his football life, if only for a little while.

Leo didn’t know he wanted to go to Brazil until Alves mentioned it during practice. Dani’s absolutely enamored with his home country and his national pride soars above all. Leo had gone up to him and asked him where he was staying. Of course Dani had divulged every little detail about the glorious city of Rio de Janeiro.

The people, the food, the culture, the night life was all the best of the best according to the Barcelona defender.

“I’m telling you Leo, I’ve traveled all over and nowhere beats Brazil,” announced Dani, with an arm slung loosely around Leo’s shoulders. “It’s the place of all places, where dreams come true.”

“You got that last part from Disney,”

“Shh, be quiet small one.”

Leo had visited Brazil before. The 2014 World Cup of course, but he never had time to actually experience the country in its truest form. Instead he had only seen but a shallow layer of Brazil, with the posh hotels and luxury accommodations. FIFA had ensured that all the players enjoyed the finest restaurants, transportation, and tourism privileges the country had to offer. And as much as Leo appreciated it all, he never had time to walk through the streets and experience the people first hand.

He knew that Brazil wasn’t the richest of countries. But sometimes he needed to return to places less privileged than Barcelona, to remind himself of where he came from. Leo had come from a life of poverty, and he was blessed to live a life so secure and comfortable. But so many players let the fame and money fill their heads with arrogance and selfishness. Leo never wanted to be one of those players. But sometimes he feared he was one.

In the beginning, Cris was an easy victim of the fame and attention. He caved in easily to cockiness and arrogance. Before Leo had met him, there wasn’t really anyone in Cris’ life to ground him, to keep him humble. The people around him were all the same way, his spoiled teammates, and over supportive coaches. The Argentine had managed to slap some sense in him whenever the older man’s attitude became too much, by literally slapping him.

“Leo, here’s a serious question for you,”

“Yes Cris?”

“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about this for days and I can’t decide,”

“Yes Cris?”

“New plane or new yacht? On one hand I already have a private jet, but the interior is getting old and it’s more trouble to get the interior replaced than buy a new one. But as for the yacht, I already have two but there both at separate houses and maybe I should get another one for-,”

They had been driving in the car and Leo had reached over and slapped him across the face. Cris, being the overdramatic man he was, stopped the car and un-buckled his seatbelt, whipping around to face the younger man. Leo sat quietly, observing his nails as the older man stared in shock at the Argentine.

“What the hell was that?”

“A slap,” supplied Leo simply.

“Yeah, I got that but what the fuck was it for?”

“You were being conceited.”

“What? No I wasn’t!”

Leo just gave him a long, unamused look and any protests Cris had ready died in his throat. After a minute of silence Cris had re-buckled and assumed driving again.

“Um, thanks for that.”

“Anytime,”

Leo laughed quietly at the memory, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

\----------------

He awoke thirteen hours later by a suitcase knocking against his foot, which was hanging out into the aisle. The business men were in a hurry to get off the plane and had no problem with physically harming innocent footballers on their way out. Leo groaned and rubbed his eyes, which were drowsy with sleep. His eyelids kept falling shut despite his best efforts and he was about to return to the land of dreams before a hostess came and shook him gently, telling him they had arrived.

Leo was grumpy because he got woken up. People often underestimated just how grumpy Lionel Messi could be from being woken up. Often times, his grumpiness lasted hours because nobody likes the feeling of being woken up, _nobody._

Because of this, he also really wasn’t in the mood to be bombarded with flashing cameras and shouting voices as soon as he exited the plane. A mob had already formed and security had to come and surround the Argentine just so he could move. Miscellaneous hands and arms attempted to penetrate through the wall of human security. Sometimes he felt the brush of foreign fingertips against his back or shoulders which made him flinch instinctively.

“Lionel Messi, Lionel Messi!” chanted the mob, some screaming praise and others just screaming in general. Cameras were flashing all over, the light becoming blinding. He covered his face with his arms, attempting to shield his poor eyes from the flashes. At one point, one crazy fan had jumped onto the shoulders of one of the security men; the fan’s ecstatic face inches away from Leo’s own startled one. The man was instantly pulled back and what happened to him, Leo will never know.

Of course everyone was going to recognize him here. This was Brazil and football was practically invented in this country. The people lived and breathed football, their lives revolved around it. The people’s dedication to the sport was pretty remarkable to say the least. They adored football almost to a religious level, for some, football was their religion. Some didn’t even pray to God they prayed to the players.

After what fell like hours, Leo was ushered out the airport doors and into a small black car. Honestly, Leo had no idea if this was the right car. How did the security even know where to take him? The flashes and noise didn’t stop until the car doors were slammed and the driver began pulling away from the curb. A good many fans tried to follow the car but were stopped by the security. The Argentine sighed loudly and slumped, exhausted, in his seat.

“Long day Senor?” asked the driver, making eye contact through the rearview mirror. The driver was in his middle age and had a kind smile and bright eyes.

Leo nodded smiling good naturedly.

“Very much so,” replied Leo. “I’m sorry I never introduced myself. Um, my name’s Leo and you are?”

The driver laughed a loud hearty cackling sound.

“There is no need to introduce yourself, Lionel Messi; I think the entire population of Brazil, of the world, knows who you are.”

Leo just smiled awkwardly. He never knew how to handle compliments.

“My name is Paulo, and if you’re worried about being in the right car, don’t worry you are. I am Dani Alves’ driver I’m taking you to his home in Rio de Janeiro.”

“Oh that’s comforting,” sighed Leo, slumping back into his seat.

“Is it your first time visiting the city?”

“No and yes, I’ve been here before but only for the World Cup. I’m afraid I didn’t have much time to see the sights myself.”

“Oh pity, Rio de Janeiro is a beautiful place, beautiful. One piece of advice, don’t limit yourself to the beaches and pretty women you’ll find there.”

Leo flushed at the mention of ‘pretty women’ which he had no interest in.

“I suggest visiting the North Zone, it’s no downtown or luxury palace I’ll tell you that. It’s very crowded and busy, the poorest part of Rio, but it’s the best place to meet the _real_ people of Brazil and get a taste of the _real_ culture.”

“I think I will. That’s what I came here for.”

“Really?” asked Paulo, eyes brightening. “The kids there will be happy to see you, I can tell you this for sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yes! They worship you there, my two children, both boys, they wear your jersey and scream your name on the television,” laughed Paulo. Leo found himself laughing as well, charmed by the friendly Brazilian. “The kids, continued Paulo, they play football whenever and wherever they can. They play in the streets, on the sidewalks, even on the roofs!”

“No, really?” asked Leo shocked.

“Yes, yes! The roofs you see, they’re very close together. Sometimes the children pass the ball from rooftop to rooftop, until their mothers chase them down!”

The Argentine chuckled quietly, amused at Paulo’s enthusiastic narration.

“Did you grow up playing on the streets Senor Messi?” asked the older man, eyes twinkling in the mirror.

Leo paused for a moment, remembering his childhood.

“Yes, I did. I played on a small field in my neighborhood, barely wider than ten meters.”

“Really?”

Leo just nodded in affirmation.

“Every day after school I’d play. Mi madre hid the ball until I finished all my school work.”

Paulo smiled widely.

“Good mother.”

The Argentine smiled fondly.

“What a difference you live now, yes?”

“Very much so,”

The ride continued with friendly conversation between the two. Paulo was very knowledgeable about his city and recommended what seemed like hundreds of places to eat and thousands of places to see. When they finally pulled into the city, Leo felt his mouth drop open in awe. The city was masterfully constructed. They passed historic landmarks such as the legendary Maracana Stadium, where Leo dreamed of playing one day. Downtown Rio de Janeiro possessed some of the highest skyscrapers Leo had ever seen in his entire life, city life was bustling and very noisy but fascinating nonetheless. They drove along the South Zone of Rio, the wealthiest area of the city, with the luxurious districts of Sao Conrado and Leblon alongside the city’s famous Atlantic beach coastline, where the sand sparkled under the Brazilian sun and the ocean water looked gorgeously blue and refreshing. Leo was stunned by the breath taking view of the famous mountain from the sea, Sugarloaf Mountain, which seemed to touch the clouds and overlook the city. Leo could faintly detect the faraway outline of the infamous ‘Christ the Redeemer’ statue which according to Paulo was named one of the “new seven wonders of the world.”

“You should be awake when the sun sets. It hits the statue just right so the shadow of Christ is thrown over the valley, a beautiful sight; never see anything else like it.”

“I’ll make sure to be awake,” replied Leo, looking fondly out the window at the receding image of the statue.

The drive along the coastline continued for a good while until Paulo pulled onto a private road which led away from the mainland city. A few miles down an inlet which extended from the main coastline, and finally they arrived at Dani’s house. It was situated along the side of a single, quiet road and looked immense from what Leo could see.

Leo tipped Paulo handsomely and the driver thanked him many times and wished him an incredible stay in Rio.

Before he departed, the older gentleman whispered to Leo.

“This place, it can change your life… Let it.”

And with that Paulo had given him one final wave goodbye before getting into the car and driving away. Leo felt sad at his departure; hopefully he would be around to take him back to the airport once his stay expired.

“Leo!” exclaimed Dani, throwing open the front door and rushing towards his teammate.

“Dani, hey!” replied Leo, setting down his suitcases to jog towards his friend.

Leo met his teammate in a bone crushing hug. It felt good to see someone familiar after a day of strangers.

“I’m glad you’re finally here,” commented Dani, unraveling his arms from around Leo’s waist and tossing an arm over his shoulders, pulling him in close. “I’ve been waiting to show you around all day!”

“Yeah, well complications at the airport,”

“Oh really? Damn, that always sucks. Any injuries?”

Leo laughed as they stepped through the front door.

“Nah, but I like your driver though. He was really nice.”

“Oh Paulo? Yeah, I love that guy. He’s a little mystical at times but otherwise, good guy, ten out of ten would recommend.”

Leo just rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics.

“Well I thought you would be getting here much earlier. I can show you around tomorrow. It’s pretty late now.”

“Yeah I agree, I’m kind of tired from my flight and all.”

“Ah well okay, we can go get some dinner if you want?”

“Yeah, let me set my stuff down and then we can go.”

“Sure no prob.”

After Leo had unpacked his things and Dani had given him a tour of the house; they had gone out into town to pick up some dinner. Unfortunately, Dani enjoyed attracting lots of attention and had taken his loudest, fanciest car into town. The engine was so loud it made Leo’s seat vibrate against his butt. Dani turned up the music to maximum volume and began belting out words before Leo turned it down a notch commenting on how Dani doesn’t want to “blow the speakers.”

They went to a high end seafood restaurant nestled on the beach. A multitude of people recognized them and not even the waiters were able to contain their excitement. All the restaurant’s employees had asked for autographs and pictures, which Leo obliged. It was at least an hour and a half until they got their food and Leo felt absolutely exhausted by then.

“Nothing gets passed these Brazilians, Leo, I’m telling you. You could dress up any way you can think of, any disguise in the world, and they’d recognize you. Trust me, once I dressed up as a girl,” Dani whispered the last part, a smile forming on his face.

“That didn’t work?” asked Leo, surprised.

“Nope, got about a block before people started taking pictures of me.”

“How have I not seen these pictures?”

“Paparazzi were paid a lot to keep their pictures to themselves. Manager was worried that pictures of me in a dress would cause lots of drama,”

“Sure would’ve, and would’ve been hilarious as fuck,” laughed Leo. “And no offense but you wouldn’t have made much of a pretty girl Alves.”

“Oh fuck off Leo. I wore a wig and everything.”

“Makeup too?”

“We’re done talking,”

“Oh my god.”

After they finished dinner, Dani suggested that they go clubbing.

“Leo. Trust me. The best fucking clubs in the world, right here in Rio my friend.”

“Well I don’t know… honestly I’m pretty worn out.”

Leo fake yawned for effect.

“You suck.”

“No I mean go if you want to! It’s your first night back in Brazil and you should have some fun.”

“Leo, no. I’ll feel like a shitty person if I leave you all alone.”

“Relax Dani, if we both go back I’m just going to take a shower and pass out anyways. Honestly, I don’t want you to miss out on doing what you want to do just because I’m here. Go do what you want, I promise you- I’ll be fine,” reassured Leo, patting Dani on the arm.

“Well if you’re sure-,”

“I’m positive. And you would just keep me up anyways with your inexhaustible energy. So go, trust me, I’m good.”

“You’re impossible. Don’t think I’m going to be letting you off the hook every time. You are coming clubbing with me at least twice while we’re here.”

“Sure, sure thing Dani.”

“You’re a sarcastic little fuck. Why are we friends?”

Dani had driven Leo back to the house, despite the Argentine claiming he could easily get a cab or something. After Dani had dropped him off Leo had gone straight up stairs and took a long hot shower, the steaming water felt heavenly on his fatigued muscles. And after forty five minutes in the shower, he exited slung a towel around his waist and padded back into his quiet room. Leo glanced around and noticed that his room had a balcony area overlooking the ocean. The carpet was soft against his bare feet as he made his way over to the sliding doors. He pushed back the cream curtains and pulled open the doors. A cool rush of air brushed past him as he exposed his room to the outside.

The balcony presented a gorgeous view of the ocean, which was relatively calm tonight. Leo admired the moon’s reflection glittering across the surface of the soft waves, and stared in awe at the bright lights coming from the city, illuminating the entire coastline. In the distance, he could see the Jesus Christ statue and the valley of thousands of homes it watched over. From so far away, it looked as though the houses were stacked on top of each other- they were so close together.

His curiosity about the other side of town only grew with each passing moment. Maybe it was because of how fascinating Paulo made the North Zone seem and Leo’s genuine desire to experience the real side of Brazil that urged him to slip on some black jeans, a dark hoodie, and a hat. Before he knew what he was doing, he was exiting the house and walking down the street towards town. 

It must’ve been because God was on his side or that he was very unassuming looking because no one managed to recognize him on his journey to the northern side of the city. It was probably the latter because Leo always managed to sneak past the crowds when he wanted to; it didn’t take much, just some dark, baggy clothing, a hat, and ta da ‘Lionel Messi,’ became just some little guy on the streets. Leo loved it.

When Leo finally reached the other side of Rio de Janeiro, he was admittingly a little lost. He had hitched a ride with a late night tour bus and hopped off when he had reached the summit of the valley. The small homes were built on an incline, ascending up the mountain, where the Christ statue stood far above them all. Up close, Leo was astonished by the assembly of the homes and had no idea how so many people lived so closely together. The buildings were in the shapes of crooked squares and had askew windows. Nearly every single house was a different color; from a standard beige to a vibrant, almost neon green and even the occasional hot pink. Laundry lines hung from every roof, people’s garments clothes pinned to the thin wires, swaying gently in the night’s breeze. Music played from all over, sounding from stereos in people’s homes to street performers performing live. Graffiti art was scattered throughout the walls of the city and colorfully lined the sidewalks as well. The streets were all lopsided and bendy; they were extremely narrow and were either at a total decline or incline, never straight. Leo was used to seeing perfectly assembled homes in immaculate fashion, but the imperfections; the expressiveness of the city is what gave the place a unique sense of character and personality. Homes were built on every free area of space; some were suspended by thin wooden supports that looked as though they might snap if the wind blew too hard. Local venders were setup at every corner and stringed lights hung from every rooftop, brightening the town in a soft glow above. It should’ve been alarming how easy it was to get lost, but Leo found himself _wanting_ to get lost, to immerse himself completely in the alluring city.

And lost he became. He had no idea how long he had been wandering aimlessly around town, absorbing all the sights and sounds of such a foreign place. The longer he explored his surroundings the more aware he became of how intensely his life had changed. He saw families in their homes, sleeping on their floors, and children asking for food at the street market. Leo watched as people, young and old, traveled through the city with all their worldly possession strapped to their backs.

It must’ve been sometime early in the morning, because by the time Leo reached the very far end of the city the majority of the town seemed still and quiet. The inhabitants had extinguished their candles and the only lights remaining were the one’s hanging dimly overhead. Leo was wandering through a dark, alleyway when he accidently tripped on something on the sidewalk. He felt his foot collide with something hard and heard the clatter of coins falling against the concrete. He looked down and realized he had knocked over a man’s bowl of coins, which is probably all he had for money. Immediately, Leo felt guilt consume him. A small man with a long white beard, dressed in brown baggy clothes was sitting cross legged on the edge of the sidewalk. He wore a small, relaxed smile despite Leo knocking all his earnings over.

“Senor! I am so very sorry, I was not watching where I was going and I-,”

“Relax my boy, they are only coins. There are more in this world.”

“I’m so sorry,” apologized Leo again, leaning down to collect the coins from the sidewalk.

“Do not trouble yourself for my sake. Accidents happen, it’s very okay,”

“Thank you for your forgiving words but this is my fault… and I feel awful,” replied Leo sadly, internally beating himself up.

The older man just smiled and shrugged.

“Do what you must to put your mind at ease then,” continued the older man, closing his eyes.

Leo attempted to pick up all the coins he could find, but it was so dark he could hardly see the ground. The Argentine sighed, guiltily, and reached into his pocket to search for his wallet. Upon retrieving it, he pulled out a generous amount of money and placed it in the older man’s bowl.

“For the trouble,” explained Leo.

The elderly man popped an eye open and then the other when he saw Leo’s donation.

“Oh no no no, my boy, that’s very generous of you but these are hard times we live in. I cannot take this from you.”

Leo knelt down on his knees to be eye level with the man and glanced around to make sure no one was watching. He pulled off his hood and removed the cap from his head. The older man’s eyes widened in surprise momentarily before returning to the calm, happy expression he wore before.

“Lionel Messi… I don’t believe my eyes,” spoke the older man warmly. He raised his arm slowly and rested it gently against Leo’s shoulder. “You give many people hope here, many people.” He squeezed Leo’s arm tightly and grinned. The older man’s eyes sparkled with sheer joy and the wrinkles by his eyes creased as he chuckled in disbelief.

“I’m very grateful for that,” responded Leo sincerely, smiling in return.

“I see you’re in disguise yes?” asked the elderly man, taking in Leo’s appearance, amusement crossing his face.

Leo nodded, “I didn’t want people to notice me. I just wanted to see the people for once.”

“Well if you wish to remain hidden, I’d keep that cap on,” suggested the older man gesturing to Leo’s hand which hung the hat by his side.

“That would be a good idea,” replied Leo standing up to pull his cap back on. He flipped back his hood as well so it hid in front of his face.

“Well you best be on your way, Lionel Messi. God bless you,”

“You as well, and I apologize again for my clumsiness,”

The older man just shooed him off, chuckling.

“Go on Leo, go on,”

The Argentine smiled, bowing his head in acknowledgement before turning around. And then suddenly a hard shoulder collided with his chest. He keeled over, clutching the wounded area. The collision was probably an accident, one could hardly see anything at this time of night. He heard the sound of a ball hitting against the concrete, and what was up with him knocking over people’s belongings tonight? Despite it being nearly pitch black out; he could see the other man rubbing at his throbbing shoulder, and leaning down to pick up the football.

 “Lamento que foi um accidente,” spoke the stranger in thick Portuguese. He was brushing the dirt off the football, his face hidden under his hair and the dim lights.

Leo hadn’t brushed up on his Portuguese for a while; but he often picked things up from Cris mumbling to himself around the house or during arguments where Cris would mutter angry words in his native tongue. The older man always assumed Leo couldn’t understand them, but he could- oh he sure as hell could.

“Esta tudo bem, accidents acontecem,” replied Leo, hoping his accent wasn’t too noticeable.

The other man just nodded in understanding before brushing past him. Too Leo’s surprise his collider made his way over to the same older man which Leo had just talked to. He bent down and leaned close to the elderly man, who was smiling tenderly at the younger man in front of him.

“Ah, a whole street for you to walk and you manage to run right into someone else?” asked the older man, raising a wrinkled eyebrow.

“It’s dark out. Don’t poke at me with your near blindness, old man,” quipped the young man.

“Ah, Neymar my boy when will your attitude fade?”

“When yours does. Now here.”

The younger man, ‘Neymar,’ reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bowl, wrapped in many paper towels. He gently helped the older man wrap his shaking fingers around the Styrofoam container, until a firm grip was established and the older man pulled the cup against his chest.

“It’s still hot. She cooked your favorite tonight, I’m sorry this is all I could sneak,”

“Don’t worry yourself Neymar. This is more than enough,”

Leo looked upon the scene, warmth flooding his heart. The act of the young man stealing food from his home, which probably couldn’t be spared, to feed another was incredibly eye opening for the Argentine. He who had more than enough to eat every day, who dined at five star restaurants and threw away food when he had too much of it, instantly felt guilt weighing him down. He felt like running home and giving away all he had or slapping himself in the face for being so selfish.

“Are you going to play now?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid the ball is close to falling apart,” sighed Neymar, observing his football which was dull and brown with age and had probably a whole role of duct tape plastered onto its tattered surface. 

“Go on, don’t keep your friends waiting,”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Neymar placed a hand on the back of the older man’s neck and pulled him in, pressing a brief kiss to the top of his forehead.

“Ate amanha.”

~~~~~~~~\--------

Neymar picked up his ball and began running towards the field. He had worked for the whole day in the city, cleaning and attending to tables; his body ached with fatigue and was begging him desperately to go to sleep. But the night was the only time Neymar could do what he loved, play football.

It wasn’t un common, especially in Brazil, to once have dreamed of becoming a professional footballer. Every boy in Rio de Janeiro longed for the opportunity to play for the famous clubs of Europe ever since they could walk. Neymar was no different. He was born with the inherent ability to play, and to play well, better than the average child. His parents knew of his talent, they’d watched him make a fool of the neighborhood boys- with a ball at his feet- ever since he was five. They tried to sign him up for teams in the city but they were much too poor to afford the traveling. A scout from the local Brazilian club, Santos, had noticed him but Neymar lacked any formal training or coaching and that was a deal breaker for the club.

The young Brazilian never blamed his parents, it was impossible to make it big coming from a neighborhood like his. But somehow his painful memories still stung every time he’d watch a game on the television.

He watched the players and he’d shake his head because that could’ve been him, _should’ve been him_. Neymar’s dreams were blinded by childish innocence. Believing that if he just played and played and played, every single day for hours upon end, that if he just kept practicing, kept pushing himself he would get there somehow. But as time went on and Neymar got older, real life had to catch up to him sometime.

When he was only ten years old he had taken a job at a local restaurant, cleaning tables and washing dishes. It hardly paid but he accepted anything that would help put food on the table. He never understood what poverty was, or that his family was poor, because he had never been anywhere out of his town. The families that surrounded him were all like him, and his friends were all like him.

At night, Neymar would crawl onto his roof and stare out upon the vastness of the world beneath him. The lights of the main city, only a mere few miles away, seemed like a different world to him. Sometimes he could hear the distant cheers echoing from the stadium and he’d close his eye and imagine himself there, wearing the Brazilian blue, green, yellow and white and representing his country on the national team. His childhood friend, Rafinha, would often join him. His friend lived only two houses away and would hop the roofs to get to Neymar’s house. Neymar was convinced Rafinha had the ability to teleport because he’d be sitting by himself one moment and then he’d blink and his friend would appear next to him.

“Ney! You’re late,” called Rafinha walking towards him with his arms thrown up in the air.

“As per fucking usual,”

“Did you just cuss? You’re twelve. Don’t do that,”

“C’mon bro, you do it all the time!”

“Doesn’t mean you can. Do as I say and not as I do,”

“Whatever, hey Neymar!” called out Thiago, Rafinha’s younger mostly annoying brother.

Neymar approached and ruffled the kid’s hair.

“What’s up kid,”

“Hey, hey watch it! I just got it cut,” protested Thiago, attempting to flatten it down.

“It looks ugly either way,” Rafinha cut in, ruffling his brother’s hair even more. “The guys have been waiting for like an hour,” stated his friend, staring unamused at Neymar, who just shrugged.

“Well when they get their own ball, then they can play whenever they want,”

“You mean that round piece of tape?” mocked Rafinha, gesturing to the old football in the Brazilian’s hands. Neymar flicked his friend’s ear in annoyance.

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the fence. The field they played on was far from traditional. It was built by the neighborhood kids, who found an area of space where an old restaurant had once been, before being foreclosed and knocked down. The field was a rectangular patch of pale, dusty earth and had crude lines drawn into it with red chalk. But to Neymar it was the best damn place in the entire fucking world.

“Okay let’s play!”

Leo was completely lost. He was lost in a foreign city, which he had never been to, with no one he knew, and no means of transportation. And he couldn’t be mad at anyone but himself. He should’ve known to pick up a map, or at least have paid attention to where he had gone to but nope, he was super lost. The streets were practically empty, it was still very late in the evening and it’s not like he could’ve just woken someone up to ask for directions.

Leo was stumbling down a dark street when he heard the voices of people not far away and the sound of a football being kicked. Leo began walking towards the sounds, his feet felt sore and achy from hours of walking. After a few minutes, the Argentine found himself looking at what appeared to be a makeshift football field and about eight guys playing. The field was lit by a few flickering street lights from above and he could clearly make out the movements of each player. He slowly walked up to the fence and rested his elbows on it to get a better view. One player immediately caught his attention.

He was effortless in his movements. He seemed to glide along the earth, the ball following him wherever he wanted, glued to his right foot. His body moved so naturally, moves that professionals had a hard time executing looked like child’s play to him. His change of direction was perfectly timed; defenders were slipping on the dusty turf attempting in vain to win the ball. He was playful too. He’d taunt the defenders, with a drop of his shoulder or a quick series of step overs; leaving the opponents baffled and hesitant to tackle him. He was entertaining and that was an important part of being a footballer. His ball control was immaculate, the boy couldn’t be older than twenty five but his style of play emanated a sense of experience and composure well beyond his actual age. He was fancy with his movements but his ability to pull them off was nothing short of astounding. Every move was executed with such seamless precision. He was addictive to watch, and that’s how Leo knew this man was something special. Whenever he passed the ball or gave it away to one of his teammates, Leo found himself instantly wishing for the talented young man to be back on the ball again. The Argentine hadn’t seen such raw talent from anyone in a very long time. Players that made it professional were usually privileged, exposed to the best coaching and instruction from a very young age. Leo was one of the rare exceptions.

Leo couldn’t help but admire not only the man’s gifted ability but his gifted looks as well. And the Argentine tried to ignore it, because he was in a serious relationship for Christ sake and Cristiano was probably the most gorgeous man on earth. But Cris was all hard muscles and broad features; he was handsome and aggravatingly so. His jawline was strong and sharp and the way he moved was like a machine sometimes, always so powerful and intense. You could instantly tell that this man worked out over four hours a day, he was sculpted like a goddamned Greek god, absolutely zero imperfections on his athletic figure.

But this man was different. He was all smooth and lithe muscles with a slender frame. He moved with a captivating grace that was so natural in his being and made it impossible for Leo to take his eyes off him. He had a pretty face, soft full lips and a blindingly white smile. His cheekbones looked delicate on his face and had sharp cat like eyes that looked like they were burning. His dark brown hair was fluffy, especially on the top, and was styled naturally upwards. Honestly, one couldn’t help but admire his appearance; he was too goddamned beautiful.

Leo was in the middle of smiling like an idiot when his phone suddenly went off. The obnoxious ringing sounded much too loud and he instantly dug into his pockets to fish out the offensive device. He took one look at caller ID and he felt his heart stop; it was Cris.

He hastily moved his thumb over decline but somehow managed to click accept call anyways. Fuck his life. He slowly raised his phone up to his ear and spoke.

“Hello?”

“Leo!” exclaimed the older man. “I’ve been texting you for hours.”

“Sorry, I turned off my text notifications,”

“Why? Never mind, listen Leo, I’ve been up all night because I’ve been thinking nonstop about you… About what happened a month ago,” spoke Cris quietly through the phone.

“Oh, have you?” asked Leo hesitantly. He really did not want to have this conversation right now.

“Yes, and look I know I’ve been a huge dick and reacted to the situation really childishly… I was just so thrown off by your answer when I really shouldn’t have been. And I really need to talk to you tonight because I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks.”

“I’m-I’m sorry Cris,” replied Leo, a bit thrown off by the sudden deep conversation.

“It’s okay baby, look do you think you can stop by tomorrow? I’ll clear my schedule so we can have the day all to ourselves,”

“I-I don’t know if I can tomorrow,”

“Oh, the next day then?”

“Umm…”

Suddenly it felt too hot. Leo hastily removed his hat and pulled down his hood. His entire body was on the verge of sweating so he unzipped his jacket and tossed it over the fence.

“Look Cris, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop by anytime soon,”

There was a long pause from the other end.

“Why not? Is something wrong?”

“No,” sighed Leo, rubbing a hand down his face, “But I may kind of-possibly-not really be in Spain right now?”

“Leo what? You’re not in Spain? Then where the hell are you?”

Leo was about to reply but then he felt the ball slam against his backside.

“Ow fuck,” cursed Leo.

“Leo what just happened? Where are you?”

The Argentine reached down to pick up the ball which came to stop at his feet. He turned to throw it back which turned out to be a huge mistake. All the players on the pitch immediately stopped what they were doing and were staring at him slack jawed. Disbelief was written all over their features and he saw one slap himself in the face before returning to looking shocked. Their eyes were wide and he could tell they were close to passing the dumbfounded phase and proceeding to the ‘holy shit Lionel Messi!’ stage. Only one looked unsurprised and that was the player Leo had been watching for nearly an hour. Instead of being astounded and amazed like the others, he watched Leo almost passively- but something else burned behind his eyes- yet Leo couldn’t tell what it was.

“Cris sorry I got to go,” whispered Leo quickly.

“Wait Leo! Don’t hang up! Tell me where you are!”

“Bye!” and with that Leo hung up, slightly relieved. He let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He couldn’t keep the truth from Cris forever, he’d eventually find out. Leo pocketed his phone and slowly turned back around. He jumped in surprise at the sight in front of him.

Seven wide eyed boys were staring at him, their bodies pressed up against the fence, crowding one another to get closest to Leo.

“You’re Lionel Messi,”

“Holy shit you’re Lionel Messi,”

“You’re the best player in the world,”

“I can’t believe it’s you,”

“Oh my god,”

“What are you doing here?”

“Did you see me play?”

“I don’t believe my eyes,”

“Messi, oh my god.”

“I’m dying.”

“I can die happy now,”

“Can you sign my shirt?”

“No sign my shirt!”

Leo could hardly process all the words being flung at him at a million miles per hour. The boys were obviously excited, some were jumping up and down and their voices were gradually getting louder. They were all trying to talk over one another and to Leo it all sounded like jumbled mush. Their ecstatic shouting was quieted when someone from the back yelled at them all to shut up.

“Hey! Hey! Guys! Can you shut up for one fucking second?”

The boys instantly quieted down and turned to look at the approaching crowd controller. It was him.

“You guys are going to wake up the entire neighborhood with your shouting. Remember what the landowner two houses over told us? If we’re too loud we won’t be able to play here ever again,” spoke the young man in a stern tone. The boys looked ashamed for only a second.

“Sorry Neymar, but do you not see him? It’s Lionel Messi!” exclaimed a young boy, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

A moment of recognition flashed over Leo. This was Neymar? Wasn’t he the same man who had bumped into earlier and saw giving the older man on the sidewalk soup? Oh, it was.

Leo smiled kindly down at the young kid, who beamed in return. Leo cleared his throat semi-awkwardly and spoke.

“Hi, yes I’ll be happy to sign all your guys’ shirts but I actually need some help,” spoke Leo.

“Oh my god, anything,”

“What do you need?”

“We’ll help you,”

The crowd began to get a little too rambunctious once again but another voice violently shushed them.

“Thank you Rafinha,” spoke Neymar nodding his head in thanks at a strong jawed Brazilian across from him.

“What do you need?” asked Neymar approaching the fence. And shit he was really gorgeous up close. Leo blinked heavily.

“Um, I’m actually kind of lost. I need directions to get back to the main city,” answered Leo sheepishly. A few of the boys laughed good naturedly at that.

“I’ll help you!”

“I can get you there!”

“I know how to get there fastest!”

“No you don’t shut up David!”

“You shut up Thiago!”

“Boys!” shouted Neymar, making them all look at him. “This is what’s going to happen.  You are all going to go home. We’ve been out here way longer than we should have and Rafinha is going to make sure you all get home safe, alright?” finished the Brazilian with finality.

His statement was met with immediate protests and groans of ‘that’s so unfair’ and ‘no way’ but Neymar only needed to stare at them heatedly until they eventually backed down. Some of them were still muttering under their breaths, but Ney flicked them in the back of their heads.

“No arguing. Now go.”

After everyone realized neither Leo or the boys had a pen, the Argentine instead gave everyone a hug, which made some of the boys break into tears. They whispered how great he was into his ear and told him how much they loved him. Leo only hugged them tighter before letting them go. Rafinha managed to corral all of them into one cohesive group and usher them out of the field. All of them screamed their goodbyes and waved. When everyone was gone, it was only him and Neymar and he felt the Brazilian’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

“Sorry about that. They all love Barcelona and you.”

“No need to be sorry about anything. I loved meeting them,” replied Leo, turning to face the other man.

Neymar’s eyes were locked onto his as soon as he turned around and Leo felt his heartrate pick up immediately. Shit, how was this man doing this to him? He felt his composure slowly slipping with every passing second; he needed to break the silence and get Neymar to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Um, so which way do I go?” asked Leo, looking away.

Neymar bit his lip, looking contemplative for a moment. He tilted his head to the side, eyes sweeping over Leo’s body once, his hair falling perfectly into place. And fuck, Leo really just needed to just stop looking at this Brazilian all together. Neymar hurdled himself over the fence with ease and began walking down the street.

“Um, Neymar? Where are you going?” asked Leo furrowing his eyebrows. He also didn’t look at Neymar’s ass, he didn’t okay? He fucking didn’t.

“Follow me,” shouted Neymar from over his shoulder continuing to walk forward.

“Um why can’t you just tell me where to go?”

Neymar stopped and turned around, looking unamused.

“You’ll get lost without me Lionel Messi.”

Neymar winked once before turning back around. Leo sighed heavily; he was in for a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this only took me forever to write. I know there's some made up characters in there but my main goal of this chapter was to describe the type of world that Neymar comes from, as it's an important part of his character and so contrasting from Leo's. Please please tell me what you think and tell me if you liked it!!! I absolutely die over comments so please leave me some feedback! Thanks for reading <3


	3. Just to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar's gonna be really dangerous for Leo.

It was very late in the night or either very early in the morning as Lionel Messi attempted to keep up with a completely beautiful stranger through the streets of Brazil.

Him and the young man, Neymar, had been walking for only about half an hour. Despite Leo being a seasoned athlete, he was already feeling the ache and burn of fatigue as they passed over bumpy sidewalks and windy streets.

On the other hand, the young Brazilian had shown no signs of tiredness. He had been a good few feet in front of the Argentine the entire night, pointing and directing Leo in certain directions, practically gliding over the ground.

As interested in Neymar as Leo was, he felt somewhat awkward at the Brazilian’s attitude towards him. Most of the time, people would be flooding him with questions and act overbearingly adoring of him. He wasn’t used to strangers not being extreme fans. He soon found that he had no idea how to strike up any form of normal conversation. He was always bad at breaking the ice. The Brazilian was seemingly indifferent towards him, treating him as though he was just another person on the streets and not the most famous footballer in the world.

The Brazilian would sometimes glance behind his shoulder at Leo, probably making sure he was still keeping up. Leo, quite pathetically, felt his heart skip a beat every time he would make eye contact with the other man. Cause _God_ if he only had the ability to describe what the Brazilian’s eyes were like; an explosion of the brightest greens and yellows always ablaze even under the dim street lights.

Neymar had a simply intoxicating aura about him, and Leo had always been a light weight. The Argentine just felt so impossibly drawn to him, as if they had met before or were always destined to meet. Leo was in the middle of his other worldly analysis when he tripped over a bump in the street, losing his balance and falling on his knees against the concrete.

He clenched his teeth together in pain, slowly picking himself up from the hard ground. He heard the sudden halt of footsteps as the Brazilian rushed over to help him up.

“Porra,” cursed Neymar as he rushed to the Argentine’s side. “Eu pensei que voce deveria ser luz em seus pes.”

Leo just laughed briefly at the remark, waving away Neymar’s outstretched arms and hoisting himself up.

“Na verdade, nao,” replied Leo smiling at the other man, who looked mildly concerned about Leo’s fall.

“You can’t get hurt while you’re with me… my friends will never forgive me,” explained Neymar, running a hand through his blond streaked hair.

“So you’re only helping me because of your friends?” asked Leo cheekily.

The Brazilian dramatically raised an eyebrow at Leo’s remark, before chuckling quietly.

“Well yes, also because I guess you’re kind of an important person, and Lionel Messi being lost in the worst parts of Rio de Janeiro, with no street smarts whatsoever, could potentially lead to bad things,” articulated Neymar, glancing Leo up and down pointedly.

“So you think I need protection?”

“Not protection, more like a guiding hand,”

“And a kid with skinnier arms than my pointer finger is really going to help me that much?”

“Hey! I thought you were supposed to be humble, which basically means nice and quiet.”

“So you’d rather me be quiet this whole time?”

“Maybe,”

“Ouch.”

Neymar just shrugged before picking up the pace again, Leo following him blindly.

“You do know where you’re going right?” asked Leo skeptically, taking in his surroundings which appeared to be nearly the same as they were thirty minute ago.

“Don’t doubt my sense of direction. I’ve lived here my entire life.”

“Things look the same around here,” observed Leo, walking up besides the other man.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Neymar, raising his eyebrow again, looking almost offended.

“Nothing I just meant-,”

“Not all of us can afford a customized multi-million dollar home with four stories, an indoor swimming pool, and an elevator,”

“I don’t even have any of those things in my house,” reasoned Leo, furrowing his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Wow, I’m surprised,” spoke Neymar. They continued walking in relative silence for a couple minutes before the Brazilin spoke again.

“What were you even doing down in these parts?”

“What do you mean?”

Neymar scoffed.

“Oh please, you’re Lionel Messi. Why would you ever want to visit a place like this?”

“I wanted to meet the real people of Brazil,” answered Leo honestly.

“Ha, that’s cute. Did you write that down or something?”

“What no? I’m being serious. Do you not believe me?”

“It’s a sweet answer and if you told that to the kids around here they’d probably all smile and laugh but… we know you don’t actually care. No one _actually_ cares.” 

Leo paused for a moment. The Brazilian was rather quiet towards him the entire night, but now he sounded hurt almost. Did Neymar hate him for some reason? He couldn’t think of anything he did in the past thirty minutes to piss him off, besides following him but the Brazilian offered his help, so what was it?

“I do care though,”

“People like you don’t care about people like us,” stated Neymar with a note of finality. “Nothing to be ashamed about that’s just how things are, and eventually we all come to realize that,” continued Neymar, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact like the plague.

“You assume I’m like that, like the arrogant and selfish players who care about nothing but themselves,” spoke Leo quietly, staring at the younger man out of the corner of his eye, hoping he would look up.

“Well aren’t you?”

Leo stopped abruptly, mind reeling at those three simple words. Because _shit_ , _was he?_ If the people he played for, the real people, the genuine lovers of the sport, the ones that wanted nothing from Leo but to see beautiful football, thought this way about him, then was it true?

“I… I really hope not,” replied Leo feebly. “I’ve always just wanted to play to play.”

Neymar slowed his steps and took a long, calculating look at the Argentine. His eyes were still burning but they looked less accusatory than they did before, softening slightly around the edges.

“Yeah me too,” sighed the Brazilian, eyes downcast, a bitter smile crossing his face.

‘So that was it,’ thought Leo. That’s why Neymar was so passive aggressive towards him.

It was hard to walk right next to your broken dreams.

Leo couldn’t even imagine how it must feel to never have reached one’s dreams because he _had_. He was one of the stupidly blessed, and lucky individuals to make it big and Christ, suddenly it felt like he had taken it all for granted.

He cleared his throat quietly, mulling over his next few words.

“I don’t know if this is going to mean anything but um… you’re really, really good Neymar.”

Neymar just shook his head, lip worried between his teeth. He was smiling, but in a dis believing way which made Leo’s heart clench.

“Good,” repeated Neymar to himself, “Good for nothing.”

“That’s not true,”

“Yeah it kind of fucking is. So what if I’m ‘good’? If I was good then I would’ve made it. If I was good then I would be able to make my parents proud… to help support my family… God shut me up, I’m rambling,”

“No Neymar, you don’t understand. I’m not lying here, what I saw back there… what you could do was nothing short of amazing. Look, I’ve played professional for a long time and the moves that you could do, God, they would have Sergio Ramos slipping on the pitch,”

“I doubt it,” replied Neymar carelessly. The Brazilian broke eye contact in favor of picking up the pace and completely ignoring the Argentine.

“No, Jesus, Neymar could you look at me for a second?” asked Leo in frustration, using his captain voice to demand attention.

The younger man stopped slowly, and turned around, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, looking away stubbornly.

Leo cautiously approached the other man, before coming to a stop only a few inches away from him. He took a moment to admire how gorgeous the younger man looked, eyes downcast, long eyelashes fluttering unconsciously against his cheeks. His smooth, tanned skin highlighted under the faint lights overhead. When he sensed Leo’s closeness, he slowly glanced up, revealing those smoldering, almost predatory eyes, burning into his.

“You have something special. I hardly ever praise people because I haven’t really met any players that impress me, that enthrall me, make it impossible for me to look away,” began Leo. He could feel a flush rising to his cheeks, but he was deadly serious about this and refused to look away. He needed Neymar to know he was being completely honest. “I don’t know how in the world you didn’t make it that truly baffles me. I know you’re going to disagree with me and tell me you weren’t good enough to make it in the first place but you’re wrong… And I know I hardly know you, and you hardly know me but I _know_ football. I can tell what makes a great player, and you… you have it all,” finished Leo quietly.

Neymar had somehow become even closer to the Argentine during his appraisal, all Leo had to do was take a deep breathe in and their torsos would be touching. The Brazilian wore an expressionless facade, his mouth pressed into a straight line, no obvious signs of emotion written across his face. But there was a little spark of something behind his _eyes_ , something that looked playful and challenging at the same time. Leo had no idea what it was.

There really was something dangerous about him, and Leo was about to experience just how dangerous he really was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They get to know eachother a little bit more, but not that much. Leo really does seem indescribably drawn to him doesn't he? Enough to not notice what he's really doing? comment and tell me what you think!! This was kind of a short chapter and the next one will be much longer haha thanks for reading!!!   
> Also translation:   
> "Fuck I thought you were supposed to be light on your feet,"- Neymar  
> "Not really,"- Leo


	4. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar's just trying to get Leo home as fast as possible, but things change.

They were finally out of Rio de Janeiro's suburbs and making their way into the city. Downtown was completely different than the quiet, community feel of the North end. There were noises everywhere, the roll of tires against the street, heels clacking against the sidewalk, rich and drunk men laughing obnoxiously amongst one another.

  
Upbeat, club music played from the various restaurants along the street, with brightly colored lights streaming down from the buildings overhead.

  
Everything felt so overwhelming to Leo, who hardly ever went out at night, preferring the subdued quiet of his room. If this is what Dani wanted him to do every night; he was rethinking their arrangement.

  
Leo couldn't help but become easily distracted by the bustling environment around him. Everything was so alive and bright and the Argentine's attention was easily swayed. A couple times he bumped into a few important looking men with pretty girls on their arms, who sent him a scowl before continuing on their way.

  
At one point, Leo became so distracted that he wandered into the middle of the street without realizing it. In his defense, the streets were pretty narrow, as were the sidewalks; so it was easy to drift off the path.

  
He was entranced by the glimpse of the ocean between the buildings, when he heard the deafening sound of a horn behind him. He turned around fast enough to see the small, red sports car coming straight for him before he felt a sharp push against his side and the air was knocked clean out of him as his backside collided with the ground.

  
After a moment of calming his body down, urging his breathing to slow and gradually coming to his senses; he realized a solid weight against his chest and the feel of rapid breaths against his cheek.

  
He blinked twice before turning his head slowly, and saw the top of Neymar's head resting at the crook of his shoulder, lips barely brushing the side of his neck. The Brazilian had his arms placed on either side of Leo's body, most likely to help absorb the impact, and was practically sprawled out across Leo's front, legs tangled with his own, and chest rising and falling in sync with Leo's.

  
Neymar was breathing in quick rapid succession. The shock of seeing Lionel Messi wander like a little kid into the middle of a Rio de Janeiro street was frightening to say the least. Christ, he was just trying to get the Argentine international home safe but clearly the universe had other plans.

  
Neymar was stuck behind a mob of drunken idiots when Leo walked into the street. He had to violently push and shove past people, earning him a lot of rude obscenities and some shoves back.

  
Thank God, the street was empty when the Argentine walked onto it but right as Neymar broke through the crowd a car turned the corner and knowing the assholes that vacation here, there was no way the driver was planning on slowing down. 

He sprinted out onto the street and tackled Leo to the ground, body collapsing on top of the shorter man. Leo let out a surprised 'Oof' as his body hit the ground.

  
They were safe on the sidewalk but Neymar felt his heart fucking beating out of his chest. There was a very high chance of Lionel Messi dying right then and there and Neymar would've been there to witness it all.

  
When he felt his heartrate slow to an almost normal place, he propped himself up on his elbows and stared harshly down at the Barcelona striker who looked confused, and disoriented.

  
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" demanded the Brazilian, strands of his hair falling across his face and into his eyes. Dammit he really had to get a haircut soon.

  
Leo just looked at him, wide-eyed, as if he didn't understand the words coming out his mouth.

  
"Well are you?" reiterated Neymar.

  
"N-no."

  
"You just walked out into the street. I don't know if you can wander around the streets back in Barcelona, but here, you can't fucking do that alright?"

  
Leo just nodded his head, blinking heavily as if he had just woken up.

  
"Tell me you're not going to do something dumb like that again."

  
"Okay," answered Leo, who could practically feel the younger man's heart beating rapidly against his chest, and the warm pressure of the Brazilian's torso pressed up against his front. Not to mention the piercing, yellow eyes staring sharply into his.They had been searing before but now they were burning hotly into his, full of anger and frustration.

  
It was distracting for Leo, who wasn't even comprehending the fact that he almost just fucking died.

  
Neymar had just saved his life, and Leo couldn't help but think, 'That was kind of hot.'

  
The Brazilian's quiet voice snapped him out his reverie.

  
"Okay, okay good," repeated Neymar to himself, hoisting himself up. He offered a hand to Leo, who thankfully accepted it, still sitting on the ground. The firm grip of Neymar's hand in his own made his skin tingle.

  
They continued their journey through the city, weaving in and out of crowds of people, surroundings blending into a mass of loud noises and bright lights that made Leo's eyes hurt.

  
"Is there another way?" asked Leo, dodging around a portly intoxicated man.

  
Neymar looked contemplative for a second, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

  
"There is."

  
"Can we take that then?"

  
"It could get us arrested."

  
"Um, seriously?"

  
"I mean there's only a slim possibility of us actually getting arrested but it happens sometimes."

  
"I can't afford to get arrested."

  
"But you can afford to almost get arrested."

  
"How illegal is this other way?"

  
"It's a law but it's a stupid one. C'mon, we'll be fine."

  
"I don't know. Anything illegal is risky for me."

  
"Shut up and follow me."

  
The last statement was said with an edge of finality that somehow made Leo shut up and follow him.

  
Twenty minutes later they had made it to the other side of the city, where the waves met the shore at the edge of the world. The reflection of the moon was glittering across the endless expanse of salt water. And all Leo could think was how peaceful the ocean looked, the waves soft and gentle, lapping rhythmically against the sand.

  
He desperately wanted to feel the pillowy feeling of the sand against his feet but was prevented from doing so by a tall barrier separating him from the beach.

  
"What is this?"

  
"It's the gate they lock at night, so tresspassers don't get drunk on the beach and litter their beer cans all over the place," explained Neymar sounding bitter about it.

  
"So I'm assuming it's illegal for us to trespass then right?"

  
"Yep,"

  
"You don't sound very concerned about this,"

  
"I do this a lot," shrugged Neymar, running a hand through the dark hair at the top of his head, pushing it back. Leo cleared his throat.

  
"Break the law you mean?"

  
"When you put it like that, it makes me sound cooler so yes, break the law."

"Is there police around?"

 

"They put signs up warning about twenty four seven security and shit like that but its all to scare you. Not once have I ever seen a policeman."

 

And with that, the Brazilian hopped the fence in one graceful motion, swinging his legs over the rail with ease. 

 

"Well c'mon," urged Neymar, before slipping off his shoes and making his way towards the water. 

 

Leo had to get somewhat of a running start to get himself over the fence, it was only like five steps, promise. 

 

There was a rush of endorphins as Leo's feet hit the other side of the fence. There was something exciting about breaking the law, even if it was a petty one compared to all the other laws one could break, but still. 

 

Leo's life, as exciting as it was, was so goddamned predictable. A day in the life consisted of wake up at eight in the morning, have breakfast, go to practice till twelve, come back, shower, and then relax around the house and occasionally go out with Cris, and then occasionally have sex with Cris, but that was really it. 

 

The argentine was a couple steps behind Neymar, who was walking leisurely along the shore, humming something quietly to himself. He kicked up particles of sand as he went, swinging his shoes in his right hand. 

 

He looked so carefree and relaxed, something Leo hardly ever felt. 

 

"You said you come here a lot at night?" asked Leo, behind him.

 

"Yeah," affirmed Neymar shooting him a glance behind his shoulder, "It's quiet... usually." 

 

"That's a long walk then, isn't it?"

 

"Well, tonight it was, but I work in the city," 

 

"Really? Where?"

 

"Resturant, as a waiter," supplied Neymar, slowing his pace so Leo could catch up. 

 

"So you're going to ignore the second part of my question?" asked Leo.

 

They were walking closely next to eachother, Leo occasionally brushing shoulders with the younger man. 

 

"I'm not telling you where, it's a quieter place and you'd just attract a lot of unwanted attention."

 

Leo frowned.

 

"Yeah I guess you're right," spoke the Argentine, solemnly. 

 

Neymar crooked an eyebrow at the other man's quiet response. Eyes sweeping up and down the Argentine's body contemplatively. 

 

The Brazilian had some doubts about him since meeting him. So many footballers were publicized as charity donating, fan loving, and humble individuals, but so much of that was all bullshit for the cameras. 

 

Neymar remembered once when Dani Alves had visited the North end, with a wide smile plastered across his face, looking genuine and caring. But it turned out, his appearance was only for some FIFA commercial, where the director ordered some local kids to run up to Dani and surround him, laughing. When the shot was done, he slipped his sunglasses on and left in his black Range Rover as swiftly as he had came. He never visited again. 

 

"So you really do hate all the attention? That's not a made up thing to make you seem more likable?" 

 

"What? Do people think that I make stuff up?"

 

Neymar just shrugged.

 

"I don't know," 

 

The Argentine sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly. 

 

"No. It's not made up. I really do try to avoid the cameras and interviews." 

 

"Why?"

 

"Why?" scoffed Leo, smiling forcibly. "Because everyone in the buisness wants to see me mess up. They ask me rude, invasive questions and expect me to actually answer them politely. I sit down for an hour with a stranger who asks me to talk more about my failures than my successes, then about my flawed personality, and ignores the fact that I'm actually a human being and can be insulted." 

 

"That seems tough. I don't think I'd be able to handle assholes like that for very long." 

 

"That's why I just try to avoid them," finished Leo, lip drawn harshly between his teeth. "I just want to play the best I can for my team, but somehow everyone wants more from me." 

 

"They want perfection."

 

"Exactly, and I'm just... not." 

 

"That's true, but then again no one can be the perfect player. Everyone has flaws, it's people's unrealistic expectations that cause the problems." 

 

"That's, very true," replied Leo, the Brazilian's sympathetic answer surprising him a bit. 

 

"I love playing on the beach," spoke Neymar out of nowhere. He had stopped to turn and face the ocean, a slight breeze wobbling his thin t-shirt against his lithe frame. He closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying the refreshing sensation of the water against his toes and wind through his hair. 

 

Leo took a moment to admire the delicateness of Neymar's eyelashes, fluttering unconsciously against his cheeks. The Brazilian really was overwhelmingly pretty, with his soft, full lips and his perfectly sculpted cheekbones and jawline. 

 

"I haven't played on the beach in forever," responded Leo quietly, stepping into the shallow water. 

 

It was cold but no unbearingly so. 

 

"I used to play here everyday when I was young," continued Neymar, "I'd grab four of my friends and we'd play until our calves burned and there was sand covering every inch of our bodies." 

 

There was the hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, a hardly noticeable, nostalgic, upturn of the lips that had the Brazilian's heart feeling heavier for some reason. Life just wasn't as simple anymore. 

 

"I used to play with my brother one on one at the beach. I had these really short, stubby legs, he'd just push me over to get past me," 

 

Neymar laughed openly at that. Leo noticed that he had a loud, friendly laugh and the Argentine found himself chuckling alongside the younger man.

 

"Just the image of you and short, stubby, legs," laughed Neymar, throwing his head back, eyes glistening with mirth and amusement. "At least you grew out of them."

 

"True, but barely,"

 

"I know, even I'm taller than you,"

 

"By like an inch," jutted Leo. 

 

"I won't comment on that,"

 

"Good, don't," 

 

Suddenly, Neymar started laughing, and laughing, and laughing, so much so that he had to bend over and clutch at his sides to try to ease the pain of his violently constricting muscles.  
The noise of his laughter should've been to loud, disrupting the quiet, natural atmosphere of their would around them, but instead his laughter blended into the air, into the wind, into the waves, like it belonged there. And Leo didn't think his world would sound right without it anymore. 

 

Leo placed a tentative hand on the Brazilian's shoulder, who seemed to be calming down a bit. The Argentine was so confused, it wasn't even funny. 

 

"Hey, are- you good?" 

 

Neymar let out one more bark of laughter before turning up to meet Leo's concerned gaze. Leo could've sworn he heard Neymar mutter, 'fuck it,' under his breath but he wasn't sure.

 

"Lionel Messi," declared the Brazilian, "Let's go swimming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you with a cliff hanger like that please comment and tell me what you think!!!!


	5. A Swim and a Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar and Leo go for a swim and what starts out as lighthearted and playful becomes something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY it's been so long... to long. I've been somewhat on hiatus with this fic because I lost inspiration but its back now!!! I have to warn you there is indirect mentions to domestic violence in this chapter, it's light I promise. But if thats a no go for you please click away. Otherwise, please enjoy this chapter I really enjoy how it came out :)

"Seriously? Swimming? Right now?"

"What?" asked Neymar shooting Leo a sideways glance, "Can't you swim?"

"Yeah," chuckled Leo, "But that's not it."

"Then what's the problem?"

The Brazilian abruptly sat himself down on the shore, forcing sand particles to flutter up besides him. He flicked the bits of sand off his legs before looking back up at Leo.

"Well? The opposition says..."

"I mean you are joking right?"

"No. I want to go swimming."

"What? Why? At this time? Now?"

Neymar just shrugged casually.

"Yep."

"The water's going to be like zero degrees," commented Leo, looking warily down at the shallow water nipping at his toes.

"Can't handle a little cold?" teased Neymar.

"More like can't handle a little hypothermia."

"Oh c'mon it's not that cold. You take ice baths right?"

"Yeah, but that's different. Also I don't think our clothes are really appropriate for swimming."

"Then we'll take them off."

Leo almost choked on his tongue. Neymar seemed nonplussed by his words, staring wide eyed up at Leo awaiting his response.

"Umm, no."

"Lionel, this is a once in a lifetime experience. When else are you going to able to swim so freely in the oceans of Rio de Janeiro without throngs of people crowding around you?" announced Neymar, smiling haughtily, as if he had already convinced Leo of their endeavor.

Well it was going to take a lot more than the Brazilian's smooth talking and dangerous smile to get him in the water.

But also Leo wasn't that out of line was he? I mean it was like four in the morning, near complete dark out, and the water was freezing cold so.. who would want to get in?

"It's illegal enough that we're out here," reasoned Leo.

"Oh c'mon let loose, do something spontaneous for once in your life," pressed Neymar, popping up from the ground.

Neymar was standing very close, so close Leo could feel the warmth emanating from the younger man's body. He had to tilt his head up a fraction of an inch to make eye contact with the infuriatingly slightly taller Brazilian, who was smirking challengingly down at him.

"I'd really rather not,"

"Bichano," whispered Neymar into Leo's ear, the warm puff of breath making his spine tingle.

"Am not."

"Fine, suit yourself. I'll go by myself," stated Neymar taking a couple steps back from Leo. He reached down to toy with the hem of his t-shirt. Leo's eyes were immediately drawn to the near teasing motion of those long, lithe fingers tugging at the ends of the fabric, promising to reveal the unseen skin beneath. Leo clenched his jaw then rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"How long will you be?"

"As long as I want," quipped Neymar walking languidly towards the water. Once his feet were submerged he turned and looked back over his shoulder at Leo.

"Well I kind of want to get home so um-," spoke Leo to Neymar's backside. His words quickly died in his throat once the Brazilian turned around.

The grey moonlight was reflecting beautifully off his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and flooding his eyes with soft, glowing light, enhancing the greens and yellows behind them. The gentle breeze weaved throughout the soft tufts of brown hair atop his head, side sweeping the strands perfectly against his forehead. He was smiling playfully back at Leo, tongue poking against the inside of his left cheek.

He looked like something out of a goddamned movie, a cheesy romance flick most likely. For a second Leo actually wanted to paint, to fucking paint, the scene in front of him but quickly sent that ludicrous thought out of his mind. Because that would just be mental, also Leo was a shit painter so.

Leo actually felt his pulse jump when Neymar reached down and tugged off his shirt. And fuck, Leo could've sworn the Brazilian was toying with him, as he revealed each inch of smooth tanned skin impossibly slowly. Leo could see the muscles of his shoulders shifting under the skin to help pull off the offending garment.

Neymar's back was glorious. All smooth and lean muscle beneath golden skin. The outline of his shoulder blades was highlighted in the moon's soft glow and the distinct line of his spine traveled down his endless backside, till it reached the waistband of his shorts.

When Neymar had suggested they take off their clothes to go swimming, Leo wasn't sure to what extent the Brazilian had meant it.

His eyes widened as he watched Neymar shimmy out of his loose shorts, standing in the shallow water dressed only in his black briefs, with clothes in hand.

"Hold these for me will you?" called out Neymar to Leo, tossing his shirt and shorts into the Argentine's un expecting arms.

The clothes smacked against Leo's frontside, dropping to the sand, the Argentine was completely oblivious to the impact- too focused on Neymar in front of him. Leo watched the Brazilian wade confidently into the water, ignoring the cold. His arms dragged along his sides, pulling the water with him.

"C'mon Leo! Live a little!" Neymar shouted, turning around to beckon Leo in.

Leo shook his head. "I'm good here thanks!"

The Brazilian just shrugged and continued on swimming. Neymar was going pretty far out, Leo could barely see his silhouette in the dim lighting of the moon. He stepped over the younger man's clothes and walked into the shallows, his toes sinking into the wet sand. He narrowed his eyes in search for the other man but he couldn't see him anywhere. Nervousness creeped up Leo's spine, despite the voice in the back of his head telling him Neymar was fine.

"Neymar?" called out Leo, cupping his mouth to louden his voice.

There was no response.

"Neymar?!" called out Leo again, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

When there was no response a second time; Leo flat out yelled.

"Neymar?! Are you alright?"

When there was once again no response; Leo stripped off his shirt and his shorts in rapid time and jumped into the water. The ocean was fucking freezing and goosebumps quickly emerged all over his skin but Leo couldn't care less. It was still shallow enough for Leo to awkwardly wade his way through the water and he continued on as fast as he could. He repeatedly called out Neymar's name to be met with only silence.

"Fuck, Neymar!"

Leo tugged at his hair in frustration, digging his fingers into his scalp. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, where are you?!"

All of sudden, Leo felt an alarming force at his side. He yelped and toppled over into the shallow water, making a considerable splash. The ocean swallowed him mercilessly and the abrupt freezing sensation paralyzed his entire body. In his surprise, he gulped in a huge mouthful of water.

He emerged choking and spitting out the salt water in his lungs. Coughing wracked his entire frame and he clutched at his sides, doubling over. When the need to cough faded away and he quieted down, Leo could hear poorly contained laughter coming from in front of him. And of fucking course.

Neymar was chuckling, looking very amused, and standing a foot away from him. "Jeez I can't believe you fucking fell for that," commented Neymar, looking pitifully down at Leo.

"I can't believe you fucking thought that was funny," retorted Leo, rolling his eyes, painfully annoyed.

Neymar smiled at the Argentine's sourness. "I wasn't even trying to trick you. I was underwater for two minutes and I come up to you freaking out and screaming my name. And then I thought, Hm why not fuck with Lionel Messi? Could be funny."

"Which it wasn't."

"Which it was! But I can't believe it took me nearly fake dying to get you in the water," spoke Neymar, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Yeah well you got me. And now I think I have hypothermia. So that's good."

"Don't be so dramatic."

Leo scoffed dramatically.

Neymar laughed and splashed Leo with a huge wave of water. The Argentine looked so utterly stunned with his slack jaw and affronted face that the Brazilian had to, just had to- splash him again. Leo stuck his arms out in defense but the water still reached him.

"Oh you're so on," spoke Leo deeply, competitiveness bubbling inside of him.

Neymar just smirked, eyes darkening. "Bring it."

The two fought in the water for a good while. Splashing and wrestling each other till their lungs burned with laughter and their muscles ached. For a short time, each of them forgot who they were and what problems they burdened. It was just the two of them, alone, on the edge of the world, where no one and nothing could reach them.

And for a long time, each of them had secretly craved to be alone, to find peace and quiet from the hectic worlds they came from. Leo had always believed he would find that peace by himself, but now, he realized- he found that peace with Neymar.

Leo wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, scrubbing out the salt water. His hair was plastered to his forehead, soaked and limp. He reached up to ruffle it unceremoniously, sending strands of hair in all different directions. Despite his heavy breathing and tired limbs, he hadn't felt so relaxed in years.

"Well I think I won," declared Leo, eyes meeting the younger man's.

Neymar's eyes were illuminated green under the moon light. "Where we even competing over anything?"

"Who cares? I won."

"You are a competitive little shit," teased Neymar, shoving at Leo's abdomen.

Leo just shrugged. "Yep, I won't deny it."

"Always used to getting what you want huh?"

"I'm always used to winning, but that doesn't mean I always get whatever I want," spoke Leo pointedly.

"Is there a difference?" asked Neymar skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Could be."

"Wow, where is this new Lionel Messi coming from?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're sarcastic and actually have a somewhat of an actual personality all of a sudden," explained Neymar, looking Leo up and down, lower lip drawn between his teeth.

Leo huffed out a laugh. "Don't hold anything back, really, I don't have feelings or anything."

"Oh you don't? Good, now I can make fun of you all I want and not feel bad about it."

"There's no point in making fun of me if I can't get annoyed by it."

Neymar regarded him for a moment. "Touché..."

They shared a brief laugh together before a sudden, giant wave crashed into them- sending Leo sprawling forwards and Neymar was flung into his backside. The Argentine quickly righted himself and whipped around to stabilize the younger man, whose hands were holding himself up on Leo's shoulders. Neymar was coughing out water, chest heaving with un even breaths.

Leo gently grabbed the younger man's wrists and placed them back on his shoulders after he managed to completely turn around and face the Brazilian. He was about to whisper, 'Karma,' in the other man's ear when he noticed something unsettling.

Beneath Neymar's collarbone was a bruise. It didn't look like a hickey or a love bite; it looked like a... Christ... like a finger print. In fact, the younger man had multiple bruises strewn across his torso. Leo's eyes searched frantically for other purple marks. He couldn't detect them earlier because they were so faint against Neymar's tan skin, but in close proximity, Leo could see them clearly. He turned his head to the side and noticed fading purple bruises around the Brazilian's wrist. He felt a sickening feeling settle over him.

"God where the fuck did that come from?" heaved Neymar, shaking the hair out of his eyes. Loose droplets meeting Leo's face.

"Neymar- um-,"

"Okay, okay, I know you're gonna make some remark about karma or something and-,"

"Neymar- are those-,"

"Okay you're not in the wrong, but seriously the wave got both of us so-,"

"Neymar!"

The Brazilian quieted down and met Leo's concerned gaze with a confused look. "What? Something wrong?"

Leo sighed and took a deep steadying breath. He didn't want to be intrusive. Neymar's life outside of tonight was none of Leo's business, but, there was some un-explainable deep down concern for the younger man that drove Leo to ask. He felt close to Neymar, and he had never gotten so close so fast before. He wanted to make sure the younger man was okay.

"I-I don't mean to be overly intrusive or accusatory at all, trust me. I just noticed the bruises on your neck and I was worried that-,"

Neymar recoiled as if he had been struck, pulling his arms back close to him, covering his chest as best he could. He wasn't laughing or smiling anymore and his eyes that had burned all night were blown out- dull in an instant. Leo became instantly regretful but also deeply concerned. His fears may have been correct if-.

Neymar interrupted his thoughts. "I know what it looks like alright? And it's not that," he snapped, looking down at the water.

Leo paused for a moment, taking in Neymar's vulnerable position. His head was slumped and his eyes downcast, his back was hunched over with his arms wound tightly around himself. He looked like he wanted to disintegrate into the air.

"Neymar," spoke Leo gently, "If it's not what I think it is, then what is it?"

The Brazilian's eyes snapped open and darted around searching for a lie.

"Got them playing soccer," mumbled the younger man.

"The ball gripped you around your wrist?"

Leo knew that was a low blow but he needed Neymar to look at him. He wasn't expecting being suddenly shoved backwards.

"It's none of your fucking business alright? Drop it," ordered Neymar venomously.

"Neymar," began Leo, slowly moving towards the other man, "I know how you feel and I-,"

Neymar whipped his head up, eyes fiery and seething mad. "You know how I feel huh?" Neymar scoffed. "Lionel fucking Messi knows how I feel? You don't know jack shit about what I feel!"

"Neymar- please, let me-,"

"Don't fucking say that to me. It's bad enough you act like you give a fuck, it's worse that you pretend to know what it feels like. Alright? So let's just drop it."

"Please, I'm trying to-,"

"Lionel Messi! Please, please shut the fuck up. I know you think you're trying to do the right thing by asking me about it but you're not okay? Fuck, I can't believe you noticed it before my family did," admitted the younger man, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Look. It's easy for you with your perfect life and perfect everything to look at people in bad situations and say that 'everything will be okay' bullshit. I don't blame you for that but here's a piece of advice, no matter what your insides are telling you to do- don't fucking do it. Don't say it, don't mention it, don't think about it, just don't say it, please," begged Neymar.

He shut his eyes and turned away. It was beyond difficult to have to come to terms with the reality of his situation with goddamned Lionel Messi. I mean, fuck, he had never talked about it aloud; his own family had never even noticed it. Not even his closest friends had noticed, not even Rafinha...

"Neymar let me speak for one second please," pleaded Leo.

The Brazilian remained quiet.

Leo took a deep breath and exhaled shakily through his nose. "I haven't really told a lot of people this. I think I can tell you because I think you'd understand. A lot of people criticize me for being too quiet all the time... The whole media actually has this 'quiet, humble, nervous' title attached to me and... well, I wasn't always like that."

Neymar furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Where is this going?"

"I was turned into that person by another. A person that I thought I could trust and love and be myself with... I- I was hurt, a lot, by someone who I thought would never hurt me but... they did and I could never be the same after what they did to me," spoke Leo softly, he felt his eyes slowly filling with water but he didn't allow the tears to fall.

He was long past crying about it; he hated giving the person the power to make him cry. So he never did.

Leo's eyes were downcast as he spoke solemnly. "So, I'm not trying to say I know exactly how you feel. That was insensitive of me, but I'm saying I'm not going to judge you for what you're going through... and if you need to or ever want to talk to me about it... I may not be completely inept at-,"

Leo didn't get to finish because there was a pair of lips on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know sad reveals, but this chapter i think really shows how much closer Leo and Neymar are getting and introduces distinct parallels between their characters that are important. Please comment and tell me what you think, i seriously read and value all of your feedback!! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a kiss, feelings, running, and mistakes.

 

Kissing Neymar was like nothing he’d ever felt in a while. The first touch of his lips to Leo’s sent a warm, rivulet of pleasure shooting up his spine that unfurled its sweetness out along his shoulders and stopped to tingle at the nape of his neck. Neymar’s movements had been hesitant at first, lips practically floating above Leo’s and fingers delicate against the curve of his waist, unsure if the Argentine would pull away.

 

And Leo was shocked at first, extremely so. He didn’t anticipate the conversation to end up with Neymar’s lips against his, Hell- he didn’t plan on revealing deeply personal information about his past life that catalyzed his ongoing social anxiety today, or getting lost in the north side of Rio de Janeiro, or meeting Neymar, or having an instant connection with him, or Cris proposing, or becoming the best player in the world, or _any of it_ and Leo was tired of the constant surprises- or more specifically- tired of getting hung up on every single one of them. Tired of the nonstop stress that revolved around all the things he couldn’t control, that weren’t even his fault.

 

For one night, he just wanted to be free of anxiety; he just wanted a clear head, wanted to be someone no one knew. So that’s what compelled him to wrap his arms around Neymar’s neck and surge up into the kiss because for some reason, Neymar tasted like freedom.

 

As soon as Leo responded to the kiss, the younger man groaned, leant down, and wound his arms tight around Leo’s waist, encircling him. Leo felt the blunt tips of Ney’s fingers dig- hard- into the columned flesh of his back in time with the Brazilian’s tongue sliding its way inside Leo’s open mouth. They both moaned against one another, the sound muffled and slick as their tongues came together. Leo had Neymar’s head firmly cradled in his hands, his palms spread flat out along the younger man’s cheeks, thumbs caressing up and down. Leo couldn’t help but think: _this feels so right._

 

They stayed like that for a bit, waist deep in the ocean, under the light of the moon, sharing in the comfort of one another’s warm, willing mouths. And maybe Leo should’ve been thinking about Cris, should’ve been thinking about their future, the proposal, the _goddamn commitment_ but Leo wasn’t thinking. The taste of Neymar’s lips and skin was too distracting and too addictive and Leo was irrefutably drunk with it.

 

A chilling breeze whistled by raising goosebumps to the surface of skin and Leo gasped into Neymar’s mouth. The younger man pulled back to look into Leo’s eyes, arms sliding down to his hipbones.

 

“You’re cold,” observed Neymar, green eyes trailing along the prickled flesh of Leo’s forearms.

 

“Oh and you’re not?”

 

“No,” smirked Neymar before swooping down and biting Leo’s upper lip playfully, “But we can get out if you want?”

 

Leo really didn’t want to get out. The water had ironically become warm now that he was used to the temperature and Neymar’s furnace of a body was very comfortable, but he knew it would only get colder the longer they stayed in.

 

“Yeah, okay,” sighed Leo, “I think we should get out.”

 

The two trudged their way back to shore through the dark, heavy water and emerged from the sandbar shaking the residual wetness out of their hair, drops flying everywhere. The damp cotton of Leo’s briefs was clinging to him like wet paint and he attempted to peel the fabric away from his thighs only for it to cling back onto him.

 

“Ugh, wet underwear feels gross,” the Argentine complained, scooping up his clothes from the ground.

 

“You can always just take them off,” teased Neymar, suddenly behind Leo, and snapping the waistband of his briefs.

 

The Argentine swatted away Neymar’s hands before whirling around to face him. Neymar’s bright eyes met his, brimming with sweet affection, and Leo felt his heart leap. It was funny how Neymar went from being so cold shouldered to Leo just a few hours ago to then having Leo wrapped up and laughing with him in his arms. This was hands down the most spontaneous yet amazing night of Leo’s life and had a feeling he would never forget it. He would never forget Neymar and his eyes. That’s for sure.

 

There was silence for a few more seconds, both of them unwilling to disrupt the moment.

 

“I know how to get back from here,” spoke Leo quietly, “It’s just down the beach and to the left.”

 

Neymar’s eyes flickered downwards for a split second, burying his toes in the sand.

 

“Oh, okay. Well, can I at least walk with you?” he asked, a bit sheepish.

 

Leo rolled his eyes. “Of course you can.”

 

Neymar visibly lit up. Together they descended down the shore, shirts and shorts swinging by their sides, and Leo doesn’t know who reached first- but soon they were hand in hand- and the Argentine couldn’t hide the blush that colored his cheeks. Their intimacy just felt so natural and relaxed, like they had been together for years. If Leo had stopped to think about it, their blissfully casual dynamic would’ve scared him, he never got along so easily with someone he had just met, but thank god he didn’t because tonight was about living in the moment. He smiled to himself. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

 

During their walk, Neymar was a nonstop talker. He asked anything that came to mind, absolutely zero verbal filter whatsoever but Leo replied to every single one of his questions.

 

“Who do you hate most on the team?”

 

Leo raised an eyebrow, “I… don’t think I can answer that?”

 

“Oh c’mon Leo, It’s not like I could tell them.”

 

“Fine, fine… Hm,” Leo paused to think, “Probably Suarez.”

 

“What?” exclaimed Neymar, swinging Leo’s hand abruptly, “You guys seem so close!”

 

“Key word being _seem._ ”

 

Neymar bit his lip to keep from smiling too much. “You are just full of surprises Lionel Messi.”

 

Leo stopped suddenly and yanked Neymar’s hand back. The Brazilian clumsily stumbled into the other man’s steadying embrace as he tilted Neymar’s head up and kissed him long and slow.

 

When he pulled back, Ney was out of breath, panting hotly against Leo’s lips. Neymar brought his hands up to cup Leo’s face, resting his forehead against the other man’s temple.

 

“What is this?” Neymar whispered. “I mean,” he threw his head back to laugh a bit disbelievingly, “I have _no idea_ where this came from. I half feel like I’m in a fucking dream or something because, how did this happen? With you of all people! Like seriously- how the hell did we get here? And what are we doing?” questioned Neymar, searching Leo’s eyes for answers.

 

“Well, we… “Stuttered Leo. “We walked here.”

 

Neymar scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No but seriously…” amended Neymar, stroking a hand down Leo’s face. “Like… what is this? What… are… we?”

 

Leo didn’t respond for a minute. Reminders of the outside world, of Leo’s reality, began to flood into his mind, jumbling his thoughts and hurting his head. He began to feel a rising sense of panic. Something like this had never happened before and he had no idea what to say to Neymar, who didn’t occupy a place in Leo’s real world.

 

He knew what he felt- this immediate connection- an instinct that was screaming at him- warning him that leaving behind Neymar would be a terrible, terrible mistake, a decision that would keep him up at night, aching and longing. But- but Cris… but Cris…

 

“Ney, I…” began Leo, reaching out to Neymar, but before he could get another word out a camera flashed.

 

Leo blinked against the harsh flash and turned his head towards the right, where muttered whispers were coming from. A small group of people were gathered up by the beach barricade, hovered around a camera. Then he heard one of them announce, “That’s him! It’s Messi! Down there by the shore!” The announcement was followed by a gasps and excited chit chat before calls began to ring out.

 

“Hey! Messi! Messi!”

 

“Messi!”

 

“Everyone hey! Messi’s down on the beach!”

 

The calls out of the few quickly turned into the calls of the many, as the passerby news of Lionel Messi being spotted quickly floated throughout the streets. A few paparazzi were attracted and before Leo knew what was happening, waves and waves of camera flashes were reigning down on him and Neymar. Loud voices were calling up to him behind the gate. The hysteria was quickly spreading and people began climbing over the fence.

 

“Shit! Fuck! Neymar c’mon we got to get out of here!”

 

Neymar was attempting to cover his eyes from the bombardment of flashes, “You know, I couldn’t agree with you more!”

 

And with that they both took off down the beach, sprinting as fast as they could. They weren’t far from Dani’s neighborhood, which was a gated community. As soon as Leo reached the gate and typed in the code they’d be safe from the paparazzi. They seemed to be outrunning the mob but he could sense the camera flashes over his shoulder.

 

It took them another seven minutes of running at an all-out sprint till they reached the gate. Leo, shirtless, sweaty, and with trembling fingers hurriedly punched in the gate code. As soon as the gate opened, both men quickly slipped through and began running again down the street till Leo skidded to a halt in front of Dani’s house.

 

Leo allowed himself a breath, doubling over in the drive way. He looked over at Neymar who was sufficiently exerted as well. They shared a brief smile before Leo picked up on the sound of distant hollers.

 

“Fuck, some of them got through the gate.”

 

“Well shit,”

 

“Come inside.”

 

Neymar whipped his head around, “What? Into Dani Alves’s house?”

 

“Yes,” seethed Leo desperate, “Come in please, you can’t escape them. The paparazzi saw you and they’ll be all over you as soon as they see you.”

 

“Leo… I don’t know-,”

 

“He’s not even home don’t worry. Trust me you do not want to be around what’s coming.”

 

“Christ I feel like I’m in a zombie apocalypse.”

 

Leo sprinted up to the front step and threw open the door, gesturing pointedly inside. “In! In! C’mon!”

 

Neymar took a deep breath and hurried inside followed by Leo and the slamming of a door.

 

Then there was silence.

 

Leo’s back was against the door, and after realizing they were safe inside, his entire body sagged with relief. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, taking a deep breath.

 

“Well, um sorry about… all of that,” spoke Leo, straightening up.

 

Neymar was just staring at him with bulged eyes, looking half traumatized and half on the verge of laughing like a maniac. “So… that-that’s your life,” stated Neymar, in transparent disbelief.

Leo just nodded, breathing slowly. “Part of it.”

 

“Holy Shit.”

 

“Yeah,” exhaled Leo. “Do you want water or something?” asked the Argentine, making his way towards the kitchen.

 

“Water would be nice. I think my lungs just exploded so…”

 

Neymar whistled as he followed Leo into the kitchen. “This is a nice ass house.”

 

“Dani’s an extravagant guy.”

 

“No shit,” responded Neymar, tapping on the glass of Dani’s trophy display.

 

Leo collected the water bottles from the fridge and walked over towards the younger man, placing the bottle in his hand. Neymar drank the whole thing in what appeared to be- one gulp.

 

“So… what do I do now? Just hang out here till the zombies go away?”

 

“Honestly, Ney I think it would be best if you slept here for the night.

 

“Wait seriously? I don’t think your teammate would be chill with some random guy sleeping in his house.”

 

“Dani’s a nice guy and he won’t be home till late tomorrow afternoon. Trust me, I know how his clubbing routine works.”

 

“Well alright… and then I just sneak out tomorrow morning. Is that right?” asked Neymar, tapping his fingers against the case, looking everywhere but at Leo.

 

The Argentine took a deep breath and plopped down on the arm of the couch.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” admitted Leo quietly, “I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what this means. I just- I just don’t know. But I do know that I feel something for you Ney and honestly, it scares me because there are so many reasons why I shouldn’t. And, and I’m sorry because I feel like you getting wrapped up in this whole confusing mess of a night is all my fault, just me being an idiot, and you didn’t deserve what just happened and definitely not all the shit that’s going to come next and I-,”

 

Neymar’s firm, insistent kiss shut him up.

 

And Leo shouldn’t have let him not after what had just happened. Not after the press had definitely gotten pictures of him and Neymar together- shirtless- and alone in the middle of the night in Rio de Janeiro that would, without a doubt, be released to the media tomorrow morning.

 

Leo shouldn’t have let Neymar lead him upstairs and into his room after Leo had been on the phone with Cris not even three hours ago.

 

Leo shouldn’t have let Neymar strip off his remaining clothes and press their naked bodies together on Dani’s guest bed.

 

Leo shouldn’t have let Neymar suck him off till he was writhing on the bed, a second away from coming when he had been proposed to a month ago.

 

Leo shouldn’t have fingered Neymar until the Brazilian was begging for Leo’s cock, back arched on his hands and knees, when Leo was in a relationship with someone else.

 

Leo shouldn’t have fucked Neymar raw until they both came, Leo deep inside the Brazilian and Ney only off Leo’s dick, when Leo was _in love_ with someone else.

 

There were a lot of things Leo shouldn’t have done tonight but he did them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH I know it's been forever since i've updated. It's college application season so I've been super busy with all that! Anyways please comment and tell me what you thought! Seriously comments are my main source of inspiration. And I know that Leo's making a lot of kind of 'not good' decisions- so it's kind of confusing- but the whole dilemma Leo's facing is his habit of 'running away' from his problems, from Barcelona, from Cris, from the paparazzi lol etc. And the more he runs away, or avoids dealing with his problems, the more shit he gets into which is kind of where this is heading. So yeah but please comment and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading and sticking with me! <3


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